


Scribbles

by tangerinestars



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Occasional angst, PREATH - Freeform, Prompt Fic, maybe some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-07-23 09:03:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20005753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangerinestars/pseuds/tangerinestars
Summary: A collection of prompts I've received on Tumblr! This will have a little of everything - probably mostly Preath, but I'm open to writing Kellex, as well. They'll usually be pretty short, probably full of errors, but hopefully cute.You can send me prompts on tumblr; my username is tangerinestars. :)





	1. Pancakes

Prompt: _Anything with Christen. One where Christen breaks her leg and is feeling down and all her teammates try to make her feel better by doing silly things…_

**_2015_ **

“Look, it’s a precaution! I know you’re not happy, but the doctor says you’ll be fine in a few weeks.”

Christen glares at Julie, who is really truly being very helpful, before she crosses her arms and pouts a little. Her roommate had been more than supportive, bringing Christen snacks and water and offered to bedazzle Christen’s fancy new knee brace. It still didn’t make her want to act any better. She wanted to play, and the upcoming friendly against Mexico had been one she’d looked forward to.

“I don’t like it.”

“I know, Press.” Julie tapped Christen on the nose, and kissed her on the top of her head. They’d grown especially close that season at Chicago, and Julie felt like family.

Everything had been fine in practice, until Christen mentioned that one of the muscles in her calf seemed to keep cramping up, sending volts of pain through her thigh, and even impacting her hip, a little. No bueno.

The USWNT medical staff had brought her in to the local hospital for an MRI, which had shown some inflammation in her leg, and was given the direction to stay off of it as much as possible. Cue bed rest.

Julie checked her phone. “Alright, I think you have some special visitors on their way!” Christen gave her a quizzical look, before she heard a knocking at the door. Julie got up answer, and in paraded Tobin and Kelley, wearing construction paper and pipe cleaner hats, with someone’s phone playing circus music on full blast. Julie laughed, and grabbed her jean jacket off her bed, indicating that Christen should text her if she needed anything. 

The dumbass duo paused, and Kelley made trumpet noises. “Do do dur dooooooooo!”

Tobin read from a hastily made scroll, tightly wound red paper which curled up on itself a few times.

“Hear ye, hear ye!”

Christen smiled, deeply amused. Kelley had placed the phone on the coffee table near the chair where Christen was perched, and had begun chaotically attempting to do a hand stand while Tobin read.

“It is our great honor to serve as court jesters for the princess, the fair Christen, finest in the land!” Tobin smiled at Christen, who blushed, and began recording.

“We are here to entertain the princess, and… Yeah, that’s about as far as we got.” She bit her lip and grinned down. Kelley nearly knocked over a lamp, before plopping down on the bed and pushing back her flyaways.

“Hiya Chrissy!”

Christen laughed and smiled at the two of them, collecting their hats (which looked like they’d been created by a five year old) and the two of them sat nearby, ready to meet her every need.

“You two certainly look festive!”

“Yeah, we heard you’d need to be off your feet, so we went to the drug store down the street and this is all we could find.” Kelley pushed up her pipe cleaner glasses. 

“Well thank you, this means a lot.” She glowed, and it really did mean everything.

“Wanna watch a movie or something? We can see what’s on and get room service to bring us pancakes.” Tobin looked at her with hopeful eyes.  
  
“I’d like that.”

The two jesters helped Christen onto her bed, and Kelley ordered two servings of pancakes and extra bacon, as Tobin scrolled through the channels. Her legs were stretched out and feet bare, and the long expanse of her thigh pressed against Christen’s. She tried not to think about it too much.

Kelley and Tobin sat on either side of her, arguing over which bad Lifetime movie they’d be watching, and for the first time that day, Christen was overwhelmed with the knowledge that she’d be okay.


	2. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Tobin is scared of getting her heartbroken, so she decides to end things with christen but christen won't let her. She stays.

_Tobin is scared of getting her heartbroken, so she decides to end things with christen but christen won't let her. She stays._

* * *

It was the first of many morning afters, but there’s always that first one.

Tobin rolled over in bed, naked as she was born, watching her... _erm_ , Christen scroll through her Instagram or twitter or something, before offering a shy, quiet smile.

 _They’d really done it this time._

They’d been dancing around it for a little while, reveling in the tease, and then one night they’d just gone for it. Two drinks each, and each other as a roommate assignment had pushed them over the edge. Last night.

It’s not that she regretted it. She didn’t regret it at all, actually. Tobin stared up at the ceiling, the thousandth hotel room she’d slept in, and reached over to Christen’s leg, to get her attention. Christen’s knee bumped back, and Tobin was forced to move up into a sitting position, suddenly uncomfortable with her nakedness, even though they’d spent the night wrapped up in each other.

She’d experienced the quivering tremble of Christen’s thighs, and the gasping yell as she came, and Tobin played the sounds in her head like a record.

“Hi.” Tobin wasn’t especially accustomed to having these conversations. 

“Good morning.” Christen wasn’t either. She put her phone down.

“ _Look, I_ -”

“ _So we-_ ”

“You go.”

And so Tobin went.

“Last night was amazing. And... I just... don’t think I can do this casually with you.”

“ _What?_ ” Christen looked genuinely confused.

“I... don’t think I can do this. I just will want you too much, all the time, and I’m not in a place to get my heart destroyed again, and I’m _really_ sorry-”

“Tobin.”

“And I definitely should have said no, because I-”

“Tobin.”

“Really, really, like you, and know that-”

“TOBIN.” Christen grabbed her knee, and Tobin looked up, Christen’s eyes staring at her intently.

“Yeah?

“Do you regret it?”

“ _No!_ ” It was honestly one of those things Tobin would never regret, no matter what.

“Then that’s all that matters.” She offered a kind smile, and Tobin felt her heart warm a bit.

“I’m just saying that I don’t do casual.” She looked down again, wishing she were less exposed, in a few ways. Christen’s hand found hers.

“Tobin, I don’t want to be casual with you.” She looked up.

All she could do was stare, a little bit. Unblinking, a smile spreading across her face.

“Yeah?”

Christen smiled back, mess of wild curly hair around her shoulders.

“Yeah.”


	3. soon you'll get better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know a lot of people say this, but she really is wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a bunch of things, including Taylor Swift's Soon You'll Get Better, about her mom's battle with cancer. I want to give you notice now that this is ALL the feels; and it's soft and romantic, but also absolutely sad, and there are no sexy bits, just emotions, so proceed with- uh, caution.

It was honestly so very _Tobin._

It’s not that she has an objection to spending money, or that money is even an obstacle… truth be told, she’s got more of it than she really truly knows what to do with. It’s always been about heart, and it was always going to matter more than the cost, no matter how big or small.

She doesn’t do things very quietly, either.

Not that it’s a bad thing, it’s just… how she is. She can be private, but when we’re home, she’s fully herself, and I can never get enough of it. She’s fresh air and sunshine and poking my side when she’s hungry, and her arms lingering around my neck when we get home from the airport, not wanting to let go yet.

She gets so focused that she completely ignores basic facts like directions or signs or anything that isn’t now, and soccer, and sometimes me. Well, me a lot. Almost always, me.

She’s willing lay it all down, time, inconvenience, money- flights for a day and a half together, and it’s not that I’m not just as willing to reciprocate, but she wants to see _me_ , and it’s easier for her to throw clothes in a bag with her camera and just be here.

I think it’s harder for her to be home without me, especially after I’ve headed back.

Not that she can’t do it, or that I’m even flattering myself- I just… know she doesn’t like living there alone if she can help it, and I don’t really blame her. I don’t like my life without her, either.

I know a lot of people say this, but she really is _wonderful._

I do my best to let her know, and to show it, but she wins, every time. It is a battle I will commit my life to, doing my very best to love her well.

And then she goes and does something like _that._

She’d been painting, but she’s always making something, and I don’t think anything of it anymore.

Warm hands over my eyes, leading me back into our room, where I’d been banned from entering for the last hour, until now. She sat me back on our bed, and uncovered my eyes, and I kept them shut, knowing how much surprises meant to her.

_You can open them now._

I just remember sitting there to take them all in, each photo a new favorite until I couldn’t choose between them. It’s this collection of frames, arranged on the wall across from our bed. She’d gone and gotten them professionally framed, but not without painting the mats which gave each photo this magical life. Ribbons of gold, stretching into other frames with silver, one corner has strokes of blue and green like the ocean, other corners twisting and bursting with a morning sun bath, others a sunset, pink and purple.

The photos are all in black and white, and sometimes I wake up and just stare at them, glimpses of my life with my favorite person.

There’s a small one, of me, just smiling, barely awake. She’d somehow woken up before I did, and captured the light reflecting off the sand outside our window.

There’s one I got, her smile over a campfire, that trip to the mountains we took, just us.

Another one I got of her stepping out of a pool, laughing, head tilted back in joy.

She has one of us with our trophies, both of them. We tapped them together in front of the camera, 2015 and 2019, and she leaned forward and kissed me, too- and the photographer got the moment perfectly and sent it to us in an email that night.

There’s the one of us on the beach, her kissing my cheek, and the one with us and the dogs, holding hands- I think you got that one, actually.

And then there’s the one of us in the very middle, a photo snapped by Tyler, of her and Cindy and you and me, that day in October when we said our vows, because I couldn’t imagine getting married without you being there.

I know you’d love them… do? Love them?

I loved how much you two clicked, how much she connected with both of you, really. But she loved you, and I know how much you loved her, and sometimes it’s the only thing that helps me be okay.

And I got back to my apartment from that trip, so sad I almost couldn’t handle it, knowing it’d be nearly two weeks before I’d see her again (I know, I know, I remember when it was two months) and Rach had put a box in front of my door.

I picked it up, duffel of dirty clothes lugged into my room, and noticed the worst, best handwriting in the world on the label. My keys tore the tape and I opened up the box.

She’d sent me cookies, one’s she’d made just before I’d arrived, ones we’d EATEN two days ago! And this pound of coffee from that place we took you to- they’re only in Portland, and they ship, but I didn’t have any, and hadn’t ordered any, or brought some with me, and- well, you get it. She she had this tiny little candle in a tin called Rose City, and it smells like pine and smoke and coffee and it’s heaven.

And then in the corner of the box there was a jersey - one from this year, wrapped around one last frame, matching the others. It’s a picture of us in Portland, caught up in a moment, foreheads touching, and she probably had Lindsey get it when I wasn’t noticing, but- _ugh_. I miss her. And I miss you.

And she had a sticky note on the glass- “I love you” and it definitely made me cry.

And I am grateful, so overwhelmingly thankful that I get to love her, and be loved by her. I am grateful for the sun and the moon and the stars, and fact that I got you and dad out of all the people I could have landed with, and Channing and Tyler, and for the time we had, and the times we still have.

I could feel you during that game, and I know you’re still zipping around up there, organizing some intergalactic sporting event, and I know you’d be so proud of me. She tells me that all the time.

I’m kind of out of words; I don’t think I can write enough for the rest of my life to tell you exactly what you mean to me, but in the same way that she does, I’ll do my best with the simplest three.

_I love you._


End file.
